


Enter The Angel

by Hermaline75



Series: Five Trope Tales [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Cultural Differences, Intercrural Sex, Language Barrier, M/M, Science Fiction, Silly, Technology is Magic, Time Travel, very silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-02 16:02:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11512737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermaline75/pseuds/Hermaline75
Summary: Loki prays for an angel, of sorts.He didn't expect him to arrive in a tin can.





	Enter The Angel

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an experiment that I ~~might~~ will probably repeat. (Even though this one turned out rather silly. It's not getting any less silly for being looked at either!)
> 
> I heard about a technique for writing D&D campaigns that involves going to TV Tropes and clicking Random Trope five times and incorporating those tropes into the story and I thought "That sounds like an interesting writing exercise."
> 
> Caveats: I discarded "Direct Continuous Levels" as that is a game design thing that I didn't know how to work into a written story, and "I Liked It Better When It Sucked" because that is more of an opinion thing than a trope.
> 
> My five tropes are:  
> 1\. Retro Rocket  
> 2\. Hope Bringer  
> 3\. Enter Eponymous  
> 4\. That Old-Time Prescription  
> 5\. Recovery Sequence

At night, every night, Loki prayed for an angel.

Or at least, that's what he told himself he prayed for.

As a child, it was true. He dreamed and hoped that the figures from the church's stained glass would come for him, some Michael or Raphael to carry him away from the orphanage, to trample the matron and the master and all the bigger boys who stole his food.

After all, he was not like them, not like any of the other children. He was destined for greatness. He knew it.

As a man, his fantasies grew more illicit. The angel took away his hunger in an instant, carried him from his bed in the mill dormitory to heaven and let him lounge on padded couches and drink the sweetest wine.

And fed his desire for other things too. After all, there was room on the couch for two. There was room for kisses and grasping hands, gasps and little cries of pleasure.

Loki would go to church and gaze up at the impassive faces of the angels and blush to look at them. After all, they watched and knew everything, did they not? They knew what sinful things he dreamed about.

Maybe they didn't mind. Maybe they enjoyed the attention. And maybe one day they would listen to his pleas.

_Michael, save me. Raphael, protect me. Gabriel, rescue me. Come to me and I shall worship you._

Of course, only a fallen angel could listen to such base promises and bargains, such weighted supplication.

He saw the angel fall when he was 22.

He had moved out of the smoky city more through bad luck than design as his building collapsed under its own weight, forcing the inhabitants to find new homes. Unwilling to be charged even more rent to live in the slums, Loki had ventured out with his meagre belongings and his cunning, finding work and lodgings in the countryside as the only labourer on a small farm, trudging up and down the fields in all weathers to haul turnips from the ground.

He had been preparing for bed on an unremarkable Tuesday when he saw the shooting star, stunned to realise it was going to fall close to him. It was the work of an impulsive moment to grab his lantern and rush out to meet it.

The ground shook, animals fleeing from their roosts and burrows, the shadows from Loki's light dancing wildly as he ran instinctively towards the star. It had been so bright, red as though burning, and Loki needed to see it.

Of all the ways he had imagined a celestial body might look, it wasn't like this. It appeared to be a type of tin can, but with a pointed end and a sort of tail, three fins that suggested it could stand up as a sort of tripod.

It steamed, but seemed to be cooling rapidly. Certainly, it was warm to the touch, but not burning. Curious, Loki touched the rivets between two plates of it, like a great suit of armour. Someone had made this, like a shipwright or a millwright perhaps.

Yes, a millwright. There was a wheel here, like the great flywheels that powered the cotton mills he'd worked in as a child. And wheels were meant to turn...

He put his lamp down and strained to make it yield to him, grunting slightly, and then there was a great hiss and a rush of stale air as a door opened on the front of the can.

Peering inside, Loki was stunned to see a person within, or at least he thought that was what it was. It looked human-shaped, but was wearing some kind of industrial costume. Orange and bulky and strange. There was barely enough space for the person, just a chair and lots of decoration. Jewels, to Loki's eyes. What was this thing? He could lean right inside so easily...

Hands trembling, Loki reached out and tugged at the helmet part, but was unable to loosen it at first. There had to be some kind of button or tie he wasn't seeing...

The fastening, when he found it, was very strange. Interlocking teeth that could be pulled apart, but then he had it free and could look upon...

An angel.

That was the only explanation. A man who fell from the sky, with the softest blond hair, so clean and fresh, and seated upon a jewelled throne. Yes. His prayers had finally been answered. They had come for him, at last. He'd always known he was special, blessed, destined for more than toil.

Loki was still gazing upon him in wonderment when the angel awoke, gasping urgently, eyes wide and terrified.

He could only blink and shake his head as the angel began babbling, speaking in tongues, frowning and evidently expecting a response.

"I'm sorry, angel," Loki said softly. "I am mortal. The language of heaven is strange to my ears."

More frowns, and then the angel unclipped a sort of choker necklace from himself, a simple silver design. Loki moved the lantern closer, getting a sound that sounded like thanks, and watched in wonder as he snapped it open, groaning at coloured fibres within.

"It's beautiful," Loki said, even though he seemed to go unheeded.

Alas, for some reason, his angel seemed distressed, scrambling out of his throne room and ripping open a hidden cupboard to retrieve a box.

It had to be heavenly, for within the box were clearly the tools to create the world. A snap of his fingers and there was light, much brighter than Loki's lamp and not creating heat. It was held safely within a fabric frame and the angel placed it on his head for better control, lighting his view.

The fibres caused him yet more distress upon closer examination. Loki wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was supposed to be a gift for him and was damaged.

He also didn't understand how the throne room was supposed to carry them both back to heaven. Perhaps he was to sit on the floor. Or on the angel's lap.

Glancing at his face, noting how well-formed and handsome it was even distorted into a scowl, broad cheeks and a strong jaw beneath a neat beard, Loki couldn't deny that he wouldn't mind that too much.

But not yet, it seemed. No, after a few moments, the angel stood and slammed the door, turned the wheel to secure it, switched off and concealed his magical light and looked at Loki curiously, pointing to his own chest.

"Thor."

What? What did that mean?

"Thor!"

And now he pointed to Loki. Was that... Was that his name?

Well, it was hardly Uriel or Sandalphon, was it?

"Loki."

A smile. Yes... That was more angelic, even with the shadows of night. Definitely wouldn't object to being in close quarters...

"Loki..."

He seemed to like it.

"Are you going to take me away?" Loki asked. "I prayed that you would. That's why you're here, isn't it?"

A look of confusion and then some rapid nonsense, gesturing to the necklace, laughing as though embarrassed.

Then he mimed sleeping.

Hmm...

At a loss for what else to do, Loki took him home to the tiny rooms he had in the old barn. Not that there was really space for two, especially since the angel was tall and broad with it.

Loki couldn't resist looking curiously at him as he disrobed from his orange costume. He had never seen such a well built man before - or at least not one who did not carry any signs of hardship upon him, other than some old scars. Remnants of a heavenly war? How strange that an angel could bear such marks. 

The fresh bruises were a worry too. There were so many. Falling had clearly hurt. He hissed in pain when Loki touched them even lightly, but laughed a little when he flinched his hand back, embarrassed at having touched so freely.

At least he didn't seem to mind.

There wasn't much he could do for the bruising, but the women he worked with swore by willow bark to ease aches and pains and he had a little of that which he could make into a tea.

Thor refused water until it was boiled, but still made a face at the bitterness of the drink. He'd be grateful of it soon enough. When it helped him sleep.

Loki was well used to sharing a bed, but all the same, he hadn't done it in many years since leaving the orphanage and the excitement of having an angel slumbering beside him kept him up long after he ought to have been asleep.

As a result, he was actually woken by the knocking up man hammering on the windows for once. And for a moment, he feared he had merely had an interesting dream.

But no, his angel was already awake, his magic box open and displaying many tools, some of which he was using on his necklace. He smiled to see Loki was awake, giving him a little wave.

"I, er... I have to work," Loki tried, knowing he wouldn't be understood.

More smiles.

And for a while, nearly a month, they lived like that. Loki went to work and returned to find Thor still with him. The angel clearly returned to his throne room sometimes, for Loki found new things in his home almost every day.

His clothes were so strange. They had to be made from the skins of some creature, for many of them had scales and were impervious to water. Even the fabrics he recognised, cottons and something akin to linen, were wrong. Strange colours and stretching in strange ways.

Thor had soap that, unlike Loki's standard carbolic bars, did not need to be grated or heated to create a lather, a pump which cleaned even the filthiest water, food which came in unusual packages - and what food! Meat that tasted like nothing Loki had ever had, fruits he had never seen, and all of it shared. Thor's presence cost him very little, and he was grateful of it for he had little enough. He had never eaten so well before and Thor seemed delighted by his reaction to everything, smiling and laughing at his amazement.

Even his reaction to his body was not a shock. Loki was mortified to awake one Sunday to find himself lying half atop Thor's chest. He must have rolled in the night.

He tried to move, but Thor stopped him, looking at him curiously, waiting to see what he would do. Almost asking...

So Loki explored. He discovered that an angelic body was not so different to his own really. Thor's nipples roused under his fingers and earned him gasping sighs and then moans when he grew brave and tried wrapping his lips around them.

He grew aroused in just the same way. And that was a revelation. The angel wanted him. Him! He enjoyed his touch and wanted to reciprocate.

Loki had never felt another's hands on him. Not for pleasure, certainly. But Thor's touch carried him to heaven on Earth, more intense than he had managed alone, and his lips were softer than he could ever have imagined.

And the new things he taught him...

Loki didn't understand at first on the night Thor turned his back, but he was quick to follow when he guided his cock between his legs and tightened around his length.

The warmth of his flesh, the firm but yielding sensation... Loki gasped and panted, gripping Thor's shoulder as he began to thrust instinctively. He had never imagined something so intimate, so close. This felt like... Like something close to love, something done out of mutual desire for pleasure and for communion.

He moaned, helpless to hold it back, and Thor moaned too. He was working his cock, Loki realised, slaking his wants too.

It felt right to reach round and take control, Thor looking back over his shoulder and kissing him, his sounds of pleasure vibrating against his lips.

He could feel it coming, the pulsing beneath his hand as Thor grew close, squeezing his legs together to pull Loki with him and gasping out his name when he spilled, rolling over for more kisses as they caught their breath together.

Loki discovered for himself the delicious sensation of being held, the hot length of Thor's cock rubbing against his thighs and putting pressure on a spot he had not known would feel so good. He found out how much he enjoyed kissing. How there was always a new surprise to be had, and really he felt they had barely scratched the surface of what was possible.

For all he was happy about their growing relationship, he was still curious about his angel. He did not seem to believe that was what he was for one thing. Loki borrowed a church hymn book with a fronticepiece of the Archangel Gabriel to show him.

"It's you?" he tried, pointing at it. "It's like you?"

Thor merely frowned at him, shaking his head. But how else could he have fallen from the sky with all these treasures? When would he return to heaven? Were they not concerned that he had been here so long? Was this a test of Loki's worthiness? Was he proving successful or were his bodily desires dooming him?

How Loki wished they could talk. Thor didn't seem to even be able to read. He drew strange symbols in the ashes from Loki's grate sometimes, but they were not an alphabet he recognised.

Almost every day, Thor would put on his necklace and speak his strange language. He always seemed disappointed somehow and would put it carefully on the windowsill.

In fact, he seemed to move it around a lot. Perhaps it had protective properties and needed to be put in many different places to envelope the whole room.

It was an otherwise ordinary Wednesday when Loki's life changed forever. Again.

He returned from the field as always, aching a little, hands raw and sore, and looking forward to a hot meal and then cuddling up to his angel. How strange that that had become so normal, so expected.

But Thor was grinning in a strange way when he arrived. He was very pleased about something.

"You look happy," Loki said. It was his habit to talk, even if he didn't get a response.

"I am," Thor said.

Loki dropped his coat before he could hang it up and stared, unable to understand how this had happened. A miracle, clearly. The curse of tongues finally lifted.

"I should probably explain," Thor said, coming forward to take his hands in his own larger ones, so warm and soothing. "This collar alters the digital information produced by my vocal cords into a sound you can understand and it plugs into my brain to change your words into my language. Unfortunately, since I fell here unexpectedly, it was damaged and I had to repair and reboot it and then it needed to fully charge and I haven't used the sunlight adaptor in years and half the connections were fried so it took far longer than it should have done..."

It was English, but not as Loki knew it. Charging? Re-boot? Had he damaged his shoes, was that what he was saying?

Thor looked at his bemused expression and laughed lightly, embarrassed it seemed.

"Sorry," he said. "That was a bit of an info-dump. I can't sync... I can't make my translator work in pre-21st century English. The truth is that I'm from the future. Hundreds and hundreds of years from now. I'm not supposed to be here. It's... kind of sort of very against the law to go back before 2075."

The words made sense, but the meaning did not. The future? The 21st century? How could he be here by mistake? This made no sense!

"Shit, is it not working?" Thor asked, tapping his necklace. "Sometimes it defaults to Yoruba..."

"You're not an angel?" Loki blurted, finding the least important of all his questions somehow.

Thor grinned at him and winked.

"Afraid not. 100% non-divine human. But you can call me Angel if you like, pumpkin."

"Pumpkin?"

"Oh, do you not have those yet? It's a a kind of orange vegetable..."

"Yes, I know what it is, I just don't understand why you called me that."

"It's a term of endearment."

What a strange culture Thor must be from that describing someone as a squash was considered kind.

"Anyway," Thor said, squeezing Loki's hands and planting a kiss on his lips. "This has been fun, you're a great guy, but I really should be moving on. Thanks for looking after me."

"You're leaving?"

"I have to. It's very dangerous for me to be here."

If he was a criminal, that made sense. And Loki knew he ought to let this go, ought to write this off as nothing but a strange dream, but...

"Can I come with you?"

It was an impulsive question, but he meant it. What future did he have here? More turnips? More cold and loneliness? Thor might not be an angel, but he might still be the answer to Loki's prayers.

"Seriously? I mean, I know we've fooled around a bit and that's been great, really great, but you still barely know me. And no offence, but you're... Well, you're from an un-advanced society. You might not cope."

Loki drew himself up to his full height, indignant, but aware he ought to be charming to get what he wanted. He wasn't going to let this chance slip through his fingers.

"I confess, I've never met anyone like you before. I don't want to let that excitement go. Ever since I was a boy, I've known I was destined for more excitement than life had offered to me, and then a man fell from the sky into my bed and showed me incredible things. Surely you will not leave me here after what I have seen? Though you must... I suppose you must meet dozens of men every day, but I doubt that any of them are quite like me."

Thor looked at him strangely, tilting his head to the side.

"Say that again?"

"You must have met dozens of men in your time. But I'm different. I know I am."

And now Thor laughed, much to Loki's evident confusion.

"Sorry. Something just started to make sense maybe. See, I met myself once, future me - long story, he needed somewhere safe to hide and everyone knows meeting themselves is a terrible idea - and he let me ask one question about my life. I'm not meant to talk about it in case it changes but... Now here you are and you say something that really chimes with what he said and I find myself wondering what if..."

His eyes shone above another smile, gleeful and just a hair short of roguish.

"Oh, I'm going to get in so much trouble..." he said, holding out his hand. "Screw it. Come on, Loki. Let's go change the future."

**Author's Note:**

> Accidental pseudo-Doctor Who AU, ooooops. Except Thor is less 'save the world' and more 'hey, I've heard about a great bar in 2349, we should totally go!'
> 
> (When you're trying to write young, arrogant Thor and he suddenly goes all Star Lord?)


End file.
